


Midnight

by Abreannero



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abreannero/pseuds/Abreannero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic in which Edward Elric thinks about his love when she sleeps in his arms every night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I was gone for over a year and returned with a renewed love for all things FMA.  
> EdWin was one of my first OTPs, so it'll always have a special part of my heart.  
> Enjoy something I randomly threw together

Some people knew the exact moment that they were in love with someone else. They knew that their heart wrenched behind their ribs, they felt the talons of nervousness grip their stomach and flare excitable nausea in the backs of their throats, the transparent droplets of sweat pooled to the surface of their skin and settled against their pores in a desperate attempt to cool off their blushing faces. When their eyes fell on the person they loved, they knew, in that instance, that there was no one else that they would want to spend the remainder of their days with.

Edward could respect that. His brother had been that way; it was as if all the endless hours had spawned that specific instance, and, all of a sudden, it dawned on him that what may have been mere affection was unadulterated love. It was a scary feeling, something that made all the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end but somehow soothe your heart all the same. Alphonse reported that he felt both terrified and comforted, like he could cry but also jump for joy. It made sense, and while he could understand it, he could not relate, for Edward had been in love with Winry since the day they met.

Technically, that was untrue; he was sure that the actual day they had met, they had likely been only three or four and more focused on snacks and toys than each other. Though, any memory he had of Winry still had some inkling of the same warmth, and he could not recall a time in which Winry was merely a friend to him. He had always cared about her in the way someone would about their family, he had always wanted her to wear that bright grin of hers, that same smile she adopted when she worked on automail or played with Den. It didn’t matter to him in what form she was a part of him, he didn’t care if she was only someone he cared immensely for or a girlfriend or a wife, Edward realized early in his life that he would not be able to go on if he was without Winry.

Surely, she felt the same way. He had come to deduce that every yell of his shorter height, crack of her wrench, and slide of her tear following the curve of her cheek was because she loved him. The actual saying of those three words were irrelevant without any action backing them, and Edward was satisfied with the pure action itself.  
That didn’t stop him from actually uttering those words to her, first with his lips against her hairline as she fell so close to sleep that her breathing slowed and her eyes had shut. Foolishly, he had thought her to be asleep, or, perhaps, a small part of him knew that she was awake enough to listen to him and wanted her to hear his declaration. Winry stirred just enough to return the sentiment, and Edward closed his eyes, peaceful but chaotic in his brain. He made the kissing a habit, regardless of where they were, but the whispers of how much he loved her were reserved for her and only her.

When she shuffled into bed after a few long hours tinkering with a client’s automail leg, he turned to her to open his arms for her embrace, having gotten into bed a half hour before. He found that she hadn’t changed her clothes, just taken off her work pants and sandals, and when she fell into his arms, his fingers gently worked the tie holding up her hair in its classic pony tail. Winry never complained about her work, he noticed; she loved automail, her customers, and the fact that her life was finally ideal. Oftentimes, she fell asleep long before he did, as her eyes were tired from staring down metal and her fingers had cramped from pinching screws and turning thick wrenches. Edward preferred when she fell asleep before him, as it offered him the chance to analyze her face, commit it to memory. He wanted to know every pore, every freckle, every eyelash. Nothing would be foreign to him, if he could help it.

When Winry finally fell into deep sleep, Edward let out a long breath, his chin atop her head once he readjusted himself. She liked to tangle her legs with his when she slept, feel the familiar cold of his leg before it warmed from her body heat, and it served as something of a security blanket.  
Gazing down at the pale blond of her hair, he trailed the strands, watching how they fell into the dents of the pillow and into the wrinkles of the white sheet below them. Although he knew Winry not to be of the vain type, her hair had always been carefully tended for, trimmed accordingly and brushed thoroughly in the morning. Usually, he was the one doing the brushing, but he didn’t mind.

For as long as he had known her, Winry had always held the same scent. Even when she worked with all her oil and metal, even when she was caught in the rain or tried a perfume, there was a soft undertone of fresh laundry. When he thought of that scent, Edward saw her hanging sheets, saw her folding her shirts, saw her lying in bed, starkly undressed, unapologetic in her purity. It made him uneasy, as in all these events, she was clearly alone. His grip tightened, though he did his best not to disturb her.  
He would never leave her alone again. Edward would stay like this for eternity if he must, cradling his wild fire woman to his chest, urging her to put out her flames that both tempted him and burned him. Edward pulled back slightly when she did, a stray thought asking him if he had woken her with his emotion-riddled thoughts, though it seemed she was just as asleep as before.

He lifted a hand, tenderly tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. During the day, they bickered, they fought, their stubborn heads knocking together any hour, but at midnight, she was his knight in shining armor, she made him feel safe, despite Edward being the one holding her. The horror of his past couldn’t catch up to him when he felt the heat of her exposed skin on his, the frightful overthinking could be placated temporarily when she kissed his lips good night.

  
Tomorrow would be a new day, another fast paced, seamless continuation of hours of work, meals, arguments and errands, but at night, Edward knew that Winry’s tranquil slumber in his arms would be slow.


End file.
